Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Likwit Rhyming, artist - Tash. Album song Publicity Stunt, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.07.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Sterling World
Song language: English
Likwit Rhyming |
From now and forever it’s the likwit emcee |
«from now and forever it’s the likwit emcee» -scratched by tony touch |
Danger danger, wild west ranger ranger |
Rearrange’a the mark ass stranger |
Behold, the look on my face stone cold |
With a rare cowboy style that never grow old |
I’m the golden state bear with a rough flare, plus debanare |
Time for me and mine, but for any kind I can’t care |
Stormy weather rain liquid |
Defari con tony toca, tash, and xzibit |
Break necks bounce with it when I spit it |
Knockin this jam is a form of calastenics |
Let it knock when you mashin down the block |
Rims spank with the car wash |
Watch the bitches stop |
An look, always stay five steps ahead |
Hard at work, while you tricks lay in bed |
Dead to the world but? |
hayru? |
he be the sun |
Always burnin, ''cause my job is never done |
Run from one time I rather dump an ak |
Thats for all the black and brown that got carried away |
To the morg, when I look in the mirror I see the lord |
«oh my god» -scratched by tt |
Since niggas wanna set trip |
It’s time to start the checklist |
Tash the likwit rhymer runnin through your city reckless |
Blame it on the hennisey, we drink that shit for breakfast |
My style be standin out like my homie tony’s necklace |
This is flawless raw’less for ya ballers |
Nah, fuck y’all, this is for all my drunken alcoholiks |
Nah, fuck dat, this is for my homie tony touch |
I told ya homeboy we come through in the clutch |
New york, l.a. |
it’s not the same thing |
Y’all niggas rob, out here we gangbang |
Guns to the ammo, niggas think they rambo |
Standin on the corner with they khakis and they flannel |
Dang yo' flow sound just like d’s |
Who wanna battle three g’s for t’s |
Please, read it off the lips of the alki-bumrusher |
Fuck you up so bad, tony wouldn’t wanna touch ya |
Say what? |
Say what? |
Say what? |
Say what? |
Say what? |
Say what? |
I’ll fuck you up so bad, tony wouldn’t wanna touch ya |
Say what? |
I’ll fuck you up so bad, tony wouldn’t wanna touch ya |
Lets get upclose and personal, malicious, sid vicious |
I bang bitches, you might find yourself missin tonight |
Rapper’s delight, keep it at the house but ain’t fuckin it right |
Got’choo stuck in the headlights, can’t move |
Impact is all of the sudden, vehicular homicide |
But I ain’t stoppin for nothin |
Me and my cousin, strong buzzin, and playin a dozen |
Pushin and shovin', leads to gettin sucked and rolled up |
Like a nigga with a mask and a gun, hold up |
Rappers act like they ain’t gon' die for small fry |
Try to reply, don’t touch what you ain’t gon' buy |
I ain’t gon' lie, motherfucker love to get high |
Barely get by with scraps and pennies |
Now we winnin grammy’s and emmy’s |
And party with the henni and remi |
Got a big bang theory nigga keepin it hot |
Its the art versus? |
?? |
or not |
«let me show some off me skills here» |
«alright…that does it» |